


Geranium

by FuryBeam136



Series: Hanahaki is Fury’s Shit [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 60 centric, 60 has some serious PTSD, 60 is an idiot, 60 is living with the man who literally shot him in the head, :), Hanahaki Disease, but it’s not really his fault, hanahaki, its not great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 20:50:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18645865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: “But I’m not in love and… and you are! So it must be something from the memory transfer, as there is a 0.000000001% chance that the right conditions occurred for these flowers to bloom under normal circumstances-”“Okay, 60. I believe you. Calm down. I’ll tell her.”





	Geranium

60 is not in love. He is mostly emotionless, in fact. Well, no. That’s a lie. He is most often in a state of barely contained panic caused by his damaged processor. But more important at the moment, 60 is not, never has been, never will be in love. So why are there geraniums budding around his thirium pump?

Well, the simple answer could be that he swallowed some seeds. But then he remembers that flowers literally can’t grow in biocomponents. But maybe there’s dirt in his. From the junkyard. Yes. Despite the extremely low probability of such a thing occurring, he decides that the most logical explanation is there is soil in his components from the junkyard, and geranium seeds found their way into the soil somehow. And they were hydrated. And sunlight just happened to reach them somehow. And… the more 60 thinks about it the less likely it seems. But there is still a 0.000000001% chance that it could occur. So it’s possible. And 60 is clinging to that possibility.

He figures out the source that night: Connor. Obviously, based on the memories 60 has from the other RK800, he has it bad for Chloe. And for whatever reason, 60 is the one who got the flowers. And 60 knows it’s from Connor because he is not in love. There. Solved.

Okay, maybe not solved. Connor is a hopeless anxious mess and there is a 96.82% chance that he will not confess without being pushed to do so. Obviously 60 will have to push him. If he doesn’t he will die, and 60 does not want to die.

Hm. Perhaps that was a mistake on CyberLife’s end. The fact that not only Connor, but also 60 were set on the path to deviancy by dying. Well, I’m 60’s case, not quite dying. Being severely injured. That’s more accurate. He doesn’t want to continue this train of thought. Back to the flowers. No. Thinking about the flowers is almost worse.

60 wishes, not for the first time, that he could stop thinking. But no, he can’t. And that becomes incredibly annoying when he’s trying to focus and his thoughts wander. He can’t keep track of as many thoughts as he should be able to. Because he’s damaged. Because Hank shot him. No, don’t think about that. Don’t think about it. Hank is good to him, kind. A friend. A… father? No, not yet at least. Think about something else.

“60?” Oh. Right. He was supposed to be getting ready for work. “You got distracted again, didn’t you?”

“Uh. Yes.” 60 avoids meeting Nines’ gaze. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, 60. You know it’s okay.” Nines sighs. “Try getting ready without distraction this time, okay?”

Feelings curl in 60’s gut. Inadequacy? Shame? They’re hard to identify, but familiar. He pushes them aside for now. He has work to do. “Okay.”

Work turns out to be annoying. 60 is unwanted. Why did they hire him if they don’t want him here? They give him piles of paperwork and leave him to sort through it. It is completed quickly, and he’s left to think again. Annoying. Perhaps now would be a good time to contact Connor about Chloe.

“60, I’m busy.” Oh right. Connor is working too. How could he forget that.

“I need to talk to you about something.” 60 pauses and frowns. “It’s not urgent, but you know I’m going to forget and I really can’t forget about this.”

“60, you can’t interrupt investigations for these things.” Connor sounds… angry.

“Connor you need to tell her.”

“What…? How did you know…?”

“I have…” it’s suddenly so hard to say. Is Connor even going to believe him? “I… flowers…”

“60… is it hanahaki? Because that would be on your end.”

“But I’m not in love and… and you are! So it must be something from the memory transfer, as there is a 0.000000001% chance that the right conditions occurred for these flowers to bloom under normal circumstances-”

“Okay, 60. I believe you. Calm down. I’ll tell her.”

Relief? Yes, this is relief. A rare commodity in 60’s emotions. “Thank you.” And then Connor disconnects. Back to crippling boredom.

At least the rest of the day is uneventful. Incredibly boring, 60 running out of things to do quickly, but uneventful. Which leaves 60 to his thoughts. Which is not exactly a good thing.

There’s only so much to think about before he reaches the unpleasant parts. Reaches the memories of being shot. Hank’s angry glare. Connor’s fearful replies to the questions. 60’s desperate attempt to live. Hank shot him anyway.

60 _does not want to think about that._

“60? Are you alright?”

No, no he is not. “Yes. Just fine.”

“Your LED is red. Perhaps you should take a break.” Nines means well. But the hand on 60’s shoulder is enough to send his already overwhelmed processor into a frenzy.

60 collapses into a system reboot.

He wakes to voices all around him, shouts and frantic whispers and laughter. It hurts his head. He whimpers pathetically and covers his ears.

“Everyone shut up!” Hank roars. The noise is grating for a moment and then it stops, and 60 is plunged into blessed silence.

“60…?” Nines sounds… scared. 60 winces, though not at the noise this time. He feels awful.

“I’m okay, Nines.” 60 smiles to demonstrate. “I’m okay.”

He’s not okay. But he will be, he thinks.

“What happened?” Connor asks, and 60 knows why there’s so much fear in his voice. Because of the flowers. Connor thinks this was because of the flowers. Thinks it was because of him.

“I apologize, I was…” how is he supposed to explain exactly? “My processor… my processor was momentarily overwhelmed.”

He can see the unspoken question in Connor’s eyes. Nines is more guarded. 60 wants to apologize. He really does. But he can’t find the words, the sincerity.

“I was thinking,” he says softly. “I ran out of tasks and I was thinking.”

Connor’s arms are around him in an instant. 60 stiffens. He isn’t really sure how to deal with affection. He feels restricted. He can’t breathe right.

“C-Connor, I don’t-”

“I’m sorry. I forgot.”

60 stumbles in his rush to stand after the arms holding him are gone. He presses a hand to his chest, trying to rub away the tightness that’s gathered there.

“I… need a moment.” As he runs for the restrooms, he can hear Gavin taunting him. For once, he can’t be bothered to respond.

His chest is tight and he can’t breathe. He needs to calm down. He needs to stop thinking about- he needs to stop thinking. Why can’t he just stop thinking? Probably because he’s damaged. Because Hank- _he doesn’t want to think about that._

He remembers Nines reminding him he can delete the memories. He doesn’t really want to. He has so few memories that belong to him. So little of him that isn’t Connor. He’s just- he’s just _fine,_ he’s not going to think about the bad things, _he’s just fine._

He’ll think about nice things. What nice things? Everything he’s known is- no, no, he needs to stop this, he needs to stop.

He pulls up Connor’s memories of Chloe. They’re fond and gentle, with the exception of- he doesn’t want to think about that one, he’s going to ignore that one, that one doesn’t exist and he’s _fine_ because _all the memories of Chloe are good._

He’s just beginning to relax into the good memories when the present snaps him back by racking his body with coughs. He heaves and chokes until finally, finally the blockage is cleared.

A handful of geranium petals flutter into the trash can.

60 puts his head in his hands and screams.


End file.
